Seagulls Over the Pacific
by Judge Kat
Summary: When Chelsea arrives to Sunshine Islands by some miracle, having been shipwrecked and tossed into the empty Pacific, she decides to repay the Islands by taking up the task of saving them and all their inhabitants. Chelsea X Vaughn, and other couples.
1. Seagulls Over the Pacific

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon. Or seagulls for that matter. Or the Pacific Ocean. Or a rotten plank of wood. **_

_**Umm okay, so this might come off a little cheesy and short, but don't lose faith! (PWEASE?)**_

_**It's an intro, so what do u expect. Comment! I appreciate constructive critisism, but can't guarantee I'll change.**_

_**CRACK!**_

_Chelsea awoke with a start. Suddenly, the softness of the cabin beds was gone.... Why was it so hard under her body, like her bed had been replaced with some sort of wet stone slab? Wait...._

_She painfully opened her eyes, shutting them again to keep herself from screaming at the sight._

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit........ , one could say she was "scared shitless", but honestly speaking, those were the only words running through her head._

_She kept her eyes shut, hoping that maybe she could wake up and it would all be gone, nothing but a dream triggered by the rocking of the still-intact boat on which she was travelling._

_After a while, she opened her eyes again, but nothing had changed. _

_She was still lying on a plank of wood, soaked to the bone, floating in somewhere between America and Europe._

_---_

Chelsea was never a particularly scared person. But, like everyone, she had her moments. And if this wasn't one of "her moments", she didn't know what was.

She continued to lie on the plank for what was probably half a day, but felt like a decade. Finally, her mind had had enough.

_Get up, Chelsea. Those seagulls have used you as a dumping target one times too many!_

"Fk you, seagulls," she muttered into the board.

Then, something in her sun-baked brain clicked.

_... Seagulls?_

_---_

She was dog paddling like no Olympic swimmer could have ever paddled before.

"So this is what boogie boarding feels like, eh? Jeezus, wonder why people enjoy it so much," she gasped between panting breaths.

_Maybe because most of them aren't stuck in the middle of nowhere, the only thing keeping them from drowning a rotten plank of wood, where their only hope is following some very loud and annoying seagulls. _

"Mm.... Touché." she replied to her own consciousness.

---

Sometimes, she could swear she saw a vague outline of land on the horizon, but then the waves would crash into her little raft and send her back once more.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Her senses screamed for her to stop, but her amazing willpower would have none of that. But nothing could last forever, she knew. Feeling her consciousness slip away, she gave one last burst of energy feeling herself surge through the waters, and dropped her throbbing arms. The almost nonexistent grey blob on the horizon

_I am in your hands now, Godess..._


	2. The Clan of Pink

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Harvest Moon. If I did, I would make the programers make a heart seen i which you can egg Will and his boat and then ride off on his White Horse into the sunset with his college funds. And there's no scene like that, so HA!

_**Okay I know I'm messing up the intro to IoH with the landscapes and storyline of SI, but IM NOT CHANGING IT!!! I wrote this chapter right after I published my first one, so I'm sorry if somebody actually commented and I didnt notice. Oh, yes, and I like PIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Warning about really mild suggestive matters.**_

Chelsea awoke to find that suddenly, her ears _weren't_ filled with water, and she was.... dry.

_Mmm... I always wondered what heaven would be like... Why am I still so tired? Why can't I see any poofy clouds with singing angels? Or a throne with some tall bearded guy clad in white? I wonder if God looks like Santa..._

_Wow, who's say these stupid things anyway? Godess, they must be retarded..._

Chelsea opened her eyes when she realized those were _her_ thoughts. Blinded by the light, she instantly closed them again, allowing herself to slip back to sleep. On the verge of dreaming, a thought popped into her head.

_Wait a minute, where the hell am I_

She was about to open her eyes when something slapped her. _Hard_. She jolted up to sitting position.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty."

A young woman with short pink hair and a grouchy attitude glared at her from above.

"If you're waiting for some sort of prince, let me tell you, Elliot probably isn't a very good kisser," she said, pointing at a pink-haired boy, apparently her older brother, with glasses and sheepish, blushing face.

Despite just having been slapped in the face, she grinned. Chelsea decided she liked this girl. Then again, after waking up to find herself _**alive**_ in a** _house_**, she'd honestly like _anything._She struck out her hand, which, to her surprise, the girl shook enthusiasticly.

"Nice to meet you to," she laughed. "I'm Chelsea."

"Name's Natalie," the girl stated. "So how do you end up on the beach? You an abandoned pirate or something?"

"Actually I'm a mermaid that traded in her ability to slap people back in order to get a human body, so that I can make out with your hot prince of a brother."

Elliot blushed even more, even though he continued to wash the dishes pretending he never heard anything. Natalie laughed.

_Eheh, he's kinda cute when he blushes_, Chelsea thought.

"I like you, you've got a sense of humour. Not everyone can joke about making out in public while lying naked in someone else's bed."

At this, Elliot dropped the glass he was holding and muttered some unheard excuse, rushing out of the house, his face completely scarlet.

Chelsea realized Natalie wasn't joking she actually _was_ naked under the covers, apart from some clearly under-sized underpants. She groaned.

"Sorry, your clothes were so wet when we found you.... we had to take them and wash and dry them for your sake. I donated a clean pair of my underwear for your cause, but I'm afraid they may be a bit small, I have no hips..." she trailed off, her face red.

"And, well, my mother nor I have shirts or... bras big enough for your -ehm- _chest_."

Chelsea groaned again, embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry to have bothered you and your family... I honestly have no clue what happened... all I remember is paddling for my freakin' life, and then..." she trailed off, not sure what had happened then. "And then I guess the waves carried me to my destination.

"I'm gonna assume something happened to your boat?"

"Yeah, I guess. I was reading in my cabin, then there was a crack, and next thing, I know, i'm somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on a plank of wood," she paused. "Now that I think about it, how _did_ that plank of wood get there? Maybe... nah. Anyway, I just kind of lay there, until I realized those seagulls were getting annoying, squawking and pooping on me. One thing lead to another, and I guess I figured out that seagulls only fly near land."

"Heh. You're smarter than you look, guess," Natalie said.

"Shut up. I'm a brunette, I have a brain."

The door opened.

"Oh, there's Gramps! Shit, I'm supposed to be sorting the crates! Gotta go!"

She zoomed out of the room. Natalie... could be afraid?

"Nata-" the old man started, but she was already gone.

He looked back at the room that she came from, and his eyes rested on Chelsea.

"Ah! Awake are we, young lady? Well, do I have news for you..."

Chelsea cut him off.

"Uh, sir? I know I've got covers and all, but..." she blushed. "...could this possibly wait until after I get dressed?"

The old man began to respond, but was cut off again by a middle-aged woman (_also with pink hair, why on earth does everyone but the old man on this island have pink hair?_, Chelsea thought.) who had somehow managed to appear behind him, scolding him and telling him how he should mind a young lady's privacy. The man lowered his head, defeated, and stumbled out. The woman than turned to Chelsea and addressed her.

"I do apologize for my father's behaviour. My name is Felicia, I hope my family hasn't been giving you _too_ much trouble otherwise."

"Ah, no. Natalie and El-" Chelsea began, but Felicia cut her off too.

"Ah, wonderful!" she sang, clasping her hands together. "I'll bring you you clothes, they should be dry by now, and, when you see it fit, you might wish to go wonder around our islands, meet our other residents."

She walked out.

Having been propped up on one elbow since Natalie left, Chelsea now allowed herself to fall back on "her" bed, staring up at the smooth, cream-coloured ceiling, waiting for "Felicia" to come back with her clothes.

_Islands? As in, more than one? Well, this should be interesting..._

_**R+R plz! As you can see, my chapters will be considerably short, but I will update more often. At least until I stop having writer's block :P -Kat**_


	3. A Cowgirl, A Communist, A Karate Kid

**Damn it all, Harvest Moon is still Natsume's. Grr. And Will still hasn't gotten humiliated. Well, I'll make up for that in MY story... just not in this chapter. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I don't own George Clooney yet, either. **

**Remember, Chelsea's still going to be raising the Islands. And since she's only met 4 of the islanders so far... We can't have a Chelsea X Vaughn fanfic without Vaughn. Also, as a warning: Chelsea might not immediately get Vaughn, she'll mess around w/ the other guys 2. But don't lose faith, my friends. We'll also have Vaughn's POV more often, as well as other character's. Now, on with the story!**

Chelsea walked out the door, having been surprised she could walk in the first place. She had put on her usual yellow tee, orange shirt, blue jean shorts, and red boots. And of course, she would be nothing without the bandana. In the city, Chelsea had the fashionable life, but the boat she was on had been heading to Sunny Island, where Chelsea had applied for and gotten the job of rancher. As a rancher of course, _really_ nice clothes were a waste of money, but Chelsea still refused to sacrifice her taste as much as Natalie.

_Then again, she said to herself, Natalie would probably still dress like that even if she did live in the city, the tomboy!_

Chelsea stretched her arms above her head, allowing the sunlight to wash over her. Finishing stretching, she straightened up and noticed almost five different guys drop there jaws open almost simultaneously. Chelsea instinctively looked down at her body.

_Okay, I __**did**__ put on my clothes._

So she just smiled at them politely, put lip-gloss on her sun-chapped lips, and headed out towards the nearest house to meet the people.

It was a red house with some sort of pen on the side. A barn house? She went up to the door and knocked. Being so incredibly tall for a woman, she had to bend over a bit to fit in the doorway. Something jumped on her. She turned around to see a mass of blonde hair and a pair of arms hugging her neck. The girl straightened up, and Chelsea noticed there was actually a body under the hair. A rapidly chattering body.

"Hey girl!" the blonde began. "I'm Julia. Natalie told me all about you!"

Chelsea laughed.

_Sort crates, my ass, Nat._

"Oh, I hope not. Nice to meet you, Julia. So, you live here, I take it?"

"Uh-uh," Julia nodded, actually pausing for a second. "Chelsea right?"

"Damn straight."

"Well, Chelsea, I notice you've been killing all the guys in town..."

"What? All four of them?" Chelsea joked.

"Ah, from the city, I see? Damn, i haven't been to the city for like months. Lucky btch. Mama would love to meet you, ya know? And Vaughnie I bet. Ah wait no, I almost forgot. He hates everyone. Ah well. Oh oh! You know who **I'd** love to meet? George Clooney. Man, to bad he's like forty, right?..." she chattered on.

Chelsea examined this "Julia" chick while she babbled. She was long-legged like Chelsea, only four inches or so shorter. Her blonde hair was tied up high in a ponytail with a blue scrunchie, and she had white cowgirl boots. She had on a white strapless halter that was cut above her bellybutton, a three-quarter sleeved shirt that was tied above her bellybutton, and blue low-cut short-shorts that began below her belly button.

_100% certified, vintage, full-scale cowgirl._

Finally, Julia paused her jabbering for a moment to breathe, so Chelsea took the opportunity to cut in.

"Umm, listen, Jules. You're like the fifth person I've met on this – no – these islands, so I'll talk to you later, 'kay? I really wanna meet the residents."

"Mm-kay. But you know -"

Chelsea waved politely and walked away before she could say more.

"- My mom's the animal dealer!" Julia finished.

She sighed.

_Damn, this is gonna be a helluva long day._

---

Chelsea walked to the house to the left of the barn. It was very... Oriental themed.

_Great_, Chelsea groaned inwardly._ A cowgirl, a communist.... What next?_

All the same she knocked on the door. It was opened by a purple vest with a beige head-band. He was very... Asian. A little boy peeked out from behind his legs. He looked like his father, head-band and all, but had on a green shirt and brown vest.

_I stand corrected_, she thought, sarcastic. _A cowgirl, a communist, and a karate-kid._

The man noticed Chelsea giving him and his house a weird look.

"Hello, I am Chen. I sell things. I buy things."

"I'm Charlie! I make-" the little boy began.

"- accessories, and upgrades your tools. We live here. We deal here. Nice to meet you. Good-bye."

"I'm-" Chelsea began, but the door had already been slammed in her face.

_Yep, communist_.

The second she turned around again a smooth, tanned-brown arm slid around her shoulder, a smooth voice drifting over her.

"Heeey, baby."

Chelsea looked up into the face of the new acquaintance. Her whole mind instantly went blank, but a single thought drifting sleepily through her head.

_Damn, he's hot_.

**No offence to China or communism, I come from Ukraine, so m parents were communist too. Chelsea/Chen relations will get better, these were just terrible first impressions. And yeah, we'll be seeing _a lot_ of Chelsea X Denny for some time. I'm kinda portraying him as a bold, smooth-talking, surfer dude (but yes, he's still a fisherman). Kinda of like a mix between Kai and Skye.**


	4. On Dates, Dwarves, and Getting Dissed

_**Yeah, I agree. Denny's a bit (UNDERSTATEMENT) of a player. But I still luv him, he's among my fave characters. Thank you for commenting, and don't worry, Vaughn'll be coming. Also, I MIGHT eventually hook up Mark X Natalie in this story, cuz Pierres annoying. And since she gunna be the main character's best friend, we need 2 hook her up w/ someone better than him. And we mite be seeing sum W.P. X Shea. Other wise everything will stay the same. Okay, enough spoilers. :P**_

_**I don't own Harvest Moon. I know that Denny's bird's name is supposed to be "Popper" in SI, but I like the IoH name, "Kuu" much more. So "Kuu" it is.**_

"Sake? _Seriously_, Denny?" Chelsea laughed when he set the drinks down on the makeshift table.

He huffed.

"Yeah, it's the only alcohol old man Chen offers. Rice wine. Asian to the very last fibre of his being."

Chelsea laughed again.

"So, how did _you_ end up on this island? Is there some sort of 'surfer's federation' here that i don't know about?"

"Actually, I'm a fisherman. And i could ask you the same question. Is there some sort of 'famous models federation' I don't know about? Cuz, daaaaaaaaaaamn, sista!"

Chelsea blushed. Again.

_Pull yourself together, Chelsea. He's obviously nothing but a flirt, a player._

She sighed inwardly.

_Yes, a __**hot**__ flirt, a __**hot**__ player..._

He chuckled at her blushing. He had curly brown hair poking out from underneath his purple bandana. His bird, Kuu, was perched sleepily on Denny's shoulder. Chelsea stood, smiling politely.

"I'm sorry, but I really would like to meet everyone else by the end of today. Thanks for the lunch and all, Denny."

"'Aight. Meet tomorrow at the beach?"

"Sure thing, Denny. Thanks again."

After having Sashimi lunch at Denny's, she went back to where she had left off. Further to the left of Chen's was Natalie's family's house, more commonly referred to as "Taro's House". Whoever Taro was. Below Chen's shop, closer to the beach, was the Diner. Denny had told her about it. If you gave, Luke, the Chef, ingredients, he could make recipes out of them for you. Otherwise, it was like an ordinary diner.

Below "Taro's House" was a very..._purple_ house with a giant spoon on a sign.

_O-kay..........._

Chelsea knocked on the door reluctantly.

The door was burst open almost immediatly.

"Hel-_LOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!_" something squeaked.

Chelsea looked around for the source of the noise. Finally, she noticed the purple top-hat below underneath her chin. Underneath it was a mass of Julia-blond hair and bright purple eyes. The body to which the tiny head belonged to was dressed in all shades of purple. The child looked up at her enthusiastically.

_Aww...._

She smiled at the cute little ten-year-old.

"Hello, darling. My name is Chelsea. What might your name be, bud?"

"Pierre, umm, ma'am?" he looked confused.

"Oh why nice to meet you Pierre," she said sweetly. "And how old are you, sweetie?"

"T-Twenty-two?"

---

He had seated Chelsea at his table to help her recover from shock.

"I'm s-so sorry!" she stammered again and again for almost ten minutes straight.

He sighed.

"That's fine. Happens to me all the time."

Chelsea resisted the urge to say 'Oh yes, I can only imagine'.

"So... what do you do... umm... Pierre?"

He puffed out his little chest proudly.

"I'm a gourmet!"

"A... gourmet. I see," she forced a laugh. "Well that's a relief, 'cuz I can't cook and don't have the income to _always_ eat at Nick's. Maybe you'll be able to teach me something.

He actually blushed.

_Hmm, I guess girls don't pay him complements much. I wonder why._

"Sure thing, Chelsea!" he beamed.

Secretly, she promised herself _never_ to walk into that house again. It disconcerted her that, being his height, his eyes would always be at her chest level. Call her paranoid, but one of the reasons she had escaped the city was that she was constantly getting harassed by men. Getting harassed by dwarves couldn't be much better.

Plus, she was still quite sure he was faking his age. He looked like a tall ten-year-old. Twelve-year-old at the most.

After finally having escaped the dwarf-child, Chelsea made her way to the docks of Verdure Island. Politely asking the boater to take her to "Meadow Island", she was reminded of her previous encounters with the sea... She suddenly felt sick, but forced herself to step into the boat. Every second of the ride made her want to throw up, but before she knew it, they had arrived. She stepped off the boat.

The sunset was beautiful. The way it faded into the horizon, the gentle waves tossing it's rays to and fro, it was worth every second of the hellish ride. Suddenly, she noticed someone else pacing about the spacious island. He was tall, dress in classic cowboy gear, complete with a stetson. He had beautiful silver hair, and a... whip? No, a rope tied to his belt.

She strolled up to the cowboy.

"Hello, I'm Chelsea. I'm new to the island. Who might you be, ahh, sir?"

He turned to face her, scowling.

"That's none of your goddamn business."

He walked away. Chelsea was rather.... stunned. Who the hell was this man? And...

_What's with those eyes?_

_**Okay, no offence to short people. Chelsea's a city girl with a bit of an attitude. She'll change. Or will she? Okay, sorry if the meeting was kind of hasty, I thought that 4 chapters was long enough :P**_


	5. Not Your Fault

_**I don't own Harvest Moon. But hot damn, I wish I owned Vaughn. **drools****_

_**This will be my last chapter for a week and a half, I'll be in Florida. And no, Vaughn and Chelsea aren't hooking up just yet. They're just getting....frendlier.**_

_**Warning: Substance Abuse in this chapter. Drinking. Some of the italics in Vaughn's POV are flashbacks.**_

Chelsea finished her tour of the Islands. She had visited everyone on Sprout Island as well. There was Lanna, the ex-popstar. Chelsea took a strong dislike to her for some reason. Maybe just because she was stupid (Lanna, of course, not Chelsea). There was Gannon the mountain of a carpenter, who lived with his adorable daughter Eliza. There was a Hotel and a Cafe, which served the same purpose as the Diner. And last of all, there was a Castle, which was home to what seemed to be a vampire and his shy, stuttering daughter.

Regis and Sabrina. Chelsea didn't care much for either of them. Regis was just plain scary. Sabrina.... She had a bad feeling about that girl. Chelsea pushed it out of her head, classifying the vibe as "Superstitious Shit".

She strolled back to the Animal Barn. She had promised Julia to pop by in the evening. Dispite her blondeness, she kind of... _liked_ the cowgirl. She knocked on the door.

"C'mon in!" a southern voice yelled from inside the building.

Chelsea walked inside. A "chubby" blonde woman greeted her from behind the counter.

"Hello, I'm Chelsea. Julia invited me for evening tea, I believe?"

"Tea?" the woman laughed. "Julie don't drink no tea. Her 'Tea' is your 'Heineken'. I'm Mirabelle, Julia's mother. She's in her room, that's the door on the left."

"Mm 'kay. Thanks, ma'am."

Chelsea knocked on Julia's door.

"Vaughn? I thought mom told you to go milk the chickens."

Chelsea laughed.

"First of all, whoever the hell Vaughn is, I ain't him. Second of all, Jules, you can't _milk_ chickens."

The door opened.

"Ahaha," Julia laughed sheepishly. "Psh, I knew _that_. Natalie's here, too. What'ya you like to drink?"

---

_**Vaughn POV**_

For some, psycho reason, Vaughn felt kind of bad about yelling at that girl.

"Jesus, Julia's making me sappy. The chick annoyed me, so I told her so," he said to himself himself.

Walking into Auntie Mirabelle's he was surprised to hear broken laughter and incoherent singing.

_Julia's drunk. Again. When is Mirabelle finally gonna wake up, and realize her daughter a shameless alcoholic._

But somewhere inside him, a little voice muttered, guiltily.

_Maybe, when_ you _wake up and realize you're no different._

Vaughn sighed, forcing himself to keep his hand from his flask. He went outside through the back door, entering the chicken coop. After having finished checking up on each one, he went back inside. He opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of milk, sat down and drank, attempting to kill his own cravings for beer. That instant, Natalie burst through her door, with that other girl in tow.

Vaughn recognized the stranger to be this "Chelsea" chick from earlier. She spotted him almost instantly. She staggered over to him. Vaughn first reaction was to safely assume her drunk, under the influence of his cousin. But, on closer examination, he recognized her face to be completely sober.

"Are you Vaughn?" she asked, breathless.

He nodded, tipping his hat coolly.

"We need your help! Julia's in trouble. Natalie and I-" she glanced over at Natalie, who was lumbering around, humming something, totally intoxicated. "Okay, _**I**_, tried to stop Julie, but she was too headstrong and- and now-"

Chelsea paused, took a deep breath and continued.

"Now she's out, Vaughn. Now she's out cold, we can barely feel a pulse. I tried using CPR, but to no avail. She needs immediate attention."

Vaughn didn't know why he was so shocked. This was Julia. But.... this was the first time Julia had messed up _this_ bad.

He stood up calmly (he had to keep his cool. Freaking out in front of Chelsea would be pitiful.), and strolled over to Julia's room. What he saw made all the colour drain from his face.

Julia was lying on the floor in a puddle of beer and blood. Her head was cut from a piece of glass, her eyes were hollow, with an unbearable stupid smirk on her face. She had lost consciousness, and yet the right half of her body was twitching. Vaughn's mind went blank.

"_Mummy! **MUMMY**!!!!!!!!!!!!"_

"_Vaughn! Get the phone! Quick!"_

"_Daddy! Will mum be okay?"_

"_Yes, yes! Just- just get the phone! 911, Vaughn, 911!!!!"_

"_Y-yes, pa!"_

"_Johanna, oh, Johanna.... Please... Don't leave me.... No! NO!!!! **JOHANNA!!!!!!**"_

His father's wailing echoed through his head.

_No! Julia, not you too!_, Vaughn was lost.

He felt a fearful, trembling hand on his shoulder.

_Chelsea_, he realized.

"Right! I-it's a stroke, Che-Chelsea. We need to get her to m-mainland fast. Get the phone, call 911."

Chelsea was frozen with fear for a moment.

"_**CHELSEA!**_"

"Y-yes. Got it." she ran off.

---

Vaughn stared at Julia through the glass as she lay on the hospital bed. If he had stopped Julia when he had come into the house, would she still be okay? Chelsea and Vaughn had been incredibly lucky to run into a doctor named "Trent" on the way to the boat. He had happened to be on the Island, collecting _grass_. He had saved Julia's life, as she probably wouldn't have survived if she had to endure the long trip back to Mineral Town.

Vaughn felt terrible. He had let Julia down. He was supposed to be like a big brother to her, he was supposed to protect her. And he failed. How many more people would he watch slip away? Suicide had always been an option for him, a pleasant dream since the day his mother passed away. Now the will burned inside him stronger than ever. He brought the flask to his lips, hoping to drink away the pain. As the burning liquid began to trickle down his raw throat, he felt a soft hand slip into his own.

He brought the flask down, snatching his hand out of the gentle grip. He turned around, about to yell at whoever had just done that.

Soft, chestnut hair covered the tear-stained face of the intruder.

_Chelsea_.

He didn't know this girl, but felt oddly compelled to hold her. For some absurd reason, he allowed himself to wrap his arms around the small, shaking body, resting his chin on her head, whispering that it'll all be okay. She sobbed gently and looked up at him with her deep, mournful, blue eyes.

"It's all my fault, isn't it? Why didn't I stop her? Why? _WHY???_" she screamed, ramming her head against the wall behind her.

Vaughn watched her beat herself up for a moment before realizing what was going on and tightly grasping her body, pulling her back into his arms.

"No Chelsea. It's not your fault."

He looked guiltily at his flask. Releasing her, he stood up and walked over to the trash can. He took his "drinking buddy" off of his belt and tossed into the garbage.

Chelsea watched in awe.

"M-my daddy... He was a drinker. He died. I should have known...." she trembled.

"It's not your fault." he repeated, wrapping his arms around her again.


End file.
